


By The Hundreds

by lousywithstature



Category: Newsies (1992)
Genre: Canon Era, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Modern Era, Post-Canon, aka in which i am a big loser and write about gay newsboys, also some, shrug shrug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-07-28 22:31:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7659373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lousywithstature/pseuds/lousywithstature
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which I take prompts and write. Starting with one hundred, and going up by the hundreds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 300

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spot and Racetrack go dine.

**Prompt: They never actually found what they were looking for. They just crossed their fingers and hoped the universe wouldn't notice.**

"I don't get why you smoke those cigars," Spot said to Racetrack. Racetrack pocketed the stub; he'd smoke it tomorrow morning. 

His eyes flickered between Spot and the inky darkness, both barely illuminated by the streetlights. "Just a hobby," he said. "Somethin' to pass time. Y'know?" 

"Nah," Spot said. "I don't know." 

"Let's just eat." 

Spot took a moment to admire the way that Racetrack carried himself — like he was made out of water, even though he was still a somewhat gawky teenager. "Uh," he said, taking another moment to compose himself. "Yeah, let's eat." 

They sat down at their usual booth, the clatter of plates, forks, and knives enveloping them. "Headline was lousy today," Racetrack said. "Gonna have ta sell back some of my papes."

Spot glanced at the stack of papers beside him. Racetrack should've been able to sell them without even trying. If he flashed that grin filled with crooked teeth at the girls passing by, they'd buy them.

"So what're you lookin' for once you grow outta sellin' papes?" Spot asked. "I don't think you'se gonna stop sellin' 'cause you looks too old, 'cause you must've stopped grown' when you was twelve." 

Racetrack snorted. "Yeah, and you must've stopped growing when you was ten." Spot opened his mouth to say something else, but the way that his stare lingered on him made his heart flutter. "Guess I'd buy a nice house. Live alone, 'cause I ain't that big on girls. Maybe I'll move in with Jack or somethin'."

"Me," Spot said, eyes trained on Racetrack's collarbone, "Me, I just wanna find a girl, settle down, somethin' like that."

They never actually found what they were looking for. They just crossed their fingers and hoped the universe wouldn't notice the lingering looks, the stutters, the fluttering hearts, and the kisses.


	2. 200

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David tries to get Jack to leave using the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so basically im discontinuing this. it just got way too stressful but i liked some of the stories so yea. i also accidentally deleted the first chapter so go me

**Writing Prompt: "The whole town does not need to see you falling off my balcony, leave using the door, please."**

"Jack," David says. Jack stares up at him, his hands gripping the railings too tight. "The whole tenement doesn't need to see you falling off my balcony." 

"Okay," he says. David's blue eyes glint in the moonlight. He's beautiful, even though Jack doubts that he's had more than four hours of sleep and David has been shouting the headlines for hours underneath the baking sun. He is slightly mussed up, his clothes unbuttoned a little to reveal the skin beneath. "I won't fall off."

"If," David pauses, his hands grabbing onto Jack's hand. Jack flinches at his cold touch. He glances at the window, wondering if he could just stay the night, but he's already said his goodbyes and refused David's offers more than once. "If you  _do_  plan on leaving, then leave using the door. Please." 

A small breeze blows, and he watches as David's hair shifts ever so slightly in the wind. His thumb brushes against the back of Jack's hand and David stares intently.

"Come on, I'll even lead you to the door."

Jack takes a risk and hoists himself up and presses his lips firmly against David's. 

"I'll stay," he murmurs, his hand pressing against David's curls. 


	3. 500

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David tries to get his partner, Jack, to work on their project.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been living off of three hours of sleep s o this probably sucks but i read it three times. 
> 
> this is (very) loosely based off of real life events

Prompt: “I despise you more than any other human I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. You’re loud and wild and don’t care about anybody but yourself. You also act like you have the mental capacity of a five year old.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

David was beginning to despise blue days. Blue days were when he had all his academic classes — English, History, Math, and French. 

At least he didn't have Gym on those days, but the fact that his academic classes often had projects and they didn't assign partners was the reason why his fondness for his blue day classes were beginning to decrease. Even though not having to be forced to be partners with somebody was a plus for some, he was often a "leftover", that somebody standing awkwardly, watching as everybody partnered with their friends. 

It was first period, which meant English. It also meant a stomachache from hell for David, because he practically always had a stomachache, the kind that was uncomfortable and heavy and just  _ugh_ , until lunch. And on this particular day, it meant a project from hell. 

David wasn't sure how he and his partner was supposed to plan a wedding when he had never been to a wedding and didn't even know how those worked. Not only that, but he was supposed to plan the wedding of Hermia and Lysander from A Midsummer Night's Dream, and judging from the list of important traits for each character that he had made (just in case), they were the least interesting:

_Lysander_

_\- normal_

_Hermia_

_\- small_

_\- vicious_

It also didn't help that his partner, Jack, kept on goofing off. His activities ranged from playing agario.io to joking with their classmates. It didn't help that David was having a terrible stomachache and the list of requirements for the wedding was daunting and filled him with increasing dread. He was supposed to present this in two weeks, and he had nothing done.

David rubbed his temples when Jack began laughing,  _again_ , with this kid named Antonio. Before he even knew what he was saying, he snapped, “I despise you more than any other human I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. You’re loud and wild and don’t care about anybody but yourself. You also act like you have the mental capacity of a five year old.”

Jack paused his laughter to lean on David's shoulder. “Are you flirting with me?”

"I," David stammered. Even though the air conditioner was on full blast, warmth crept up from the base of his spine, and the warmth was certainly not from his sweatshirt. He took a moment to compose himself, and said, "No, I'm telling you to actually  _work,_ unless you want a terrible grade."

"He's flirting with you," Antonio interjected, and David gritted his teeth, staring intently at his computer screen, trying to read the article about must haves for weddings, but Jack distracted him when he slung an arm around him. 

"Alright, alright, I'll work. Race, you should help your partner out 'fore he starts flirtin' with you," Jack said, and typed with one hand on the computer: 

_howe t o pla n a  wedddnig_

After that, Jack became a little more bearable. 

And David wouldn't realize it at the time, but he had opened up the door for a romantic encounter. 

 


End file.
